


Dress Your Wound

by copper_wasp



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copper_wasp/pseuds/copper_wasp
Summary: The touch was too soft, too tender and caring as he cleaned the wound, Felix not even registering the burn of the poultice Dimitri spread over the cut once it was clean.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66
Collections: 2019 Dimilix Holiday Exchange





	Dress Your Wound

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story for Cakes! I hope you like it!

Felix tensed when he felt a presence behind him, hand instinctively shooting to his sword belt. 

“It’s just me, Felix,” a familiar, deep voice said, accompanied by the swishing of a cape over the leaf-strewn ground. 

Felix relaxed, turning his head as Dimitri stood beside him. It was either very late or very early, depending on how you looked at it, the full moon and the soft glow of Areadbhar the only light on the makeshift camp. Dimitri heard the click of Felix’s sword as it settled back into its sheath and he chuckled, running a gloved hand through his blonde locks. 

“Were you planning on cutting me down, Felix?” Dimitri asked, eyes scanning the border of the camp. 

“It’s always wise to be prepared, Your Majesty,” Felix replied with a hint of his normal annoyance. 

Dimitri hummed in agreement, taking a few steps forward, the moonlight creating an ethereal glow around him. 

“Why don’t you get some rest? I can take the watch from here,” Dimitri offered, turning to glance at Felix over his shoulder. 

“You’re the one who should be resting,” Felix retorted, rolling his eyes. The boar was never good at taking care of himself, and Felix was not quite in the mood to indulge his incapacity. 

“Please, go on, I need your strength,” Dimitri said, and Felix sighed resignedly. With a mumbled ‘very well,’ he was about to unwillingly trudge back to his tent when he caught the slightest movement to the east. A faint glint of steel and Felix charged towards Dimitri, pushing him out of the way with a less than elegant shove to his shoulder. 

The short spear whizzed by, the blade just catching the high point of Felix’s cheek as it flew, the swordsman bending backwards to avoid its deadly trajectory. Dimitri sprung back up to his feet, brilliant blue eye scanning for the source. Silent, he charged forward, Felix hearing a wet-sounding yell as Dimitri’s lance found its target, the only noise the surprised assailant could make before his soul departed. Even Felix was impressed, not expecting Dimitri to spring into such immediate action. 

“ _Felix!_ ” Dimitri called out, and, ignoring the trickle of blood rolling down his cheek, Felix sprinted towards his King’s voice.

Dimitri was fighting off two more assailants, assassins by the look of it, as their footfalls were nearly silent as they clashed with the King. Focused, Felix dispatched one of them with a thrust to the kidney from behind, pulling his sword out of the falling body to block an overhead strike from another who had tried to come up behind him. 

His attention was divided, trying to keep his own skin intact while watching his King as he fought. Dimitri was not exactly suited for the fast combat of assassins, and Felix’s heart raced, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he desperately tried to get to him. 

A parry, followed by a quick riposte and Felix had dispatched the second enemy, his bright blood staining the ground. Felix was only focused on Dimitri now, locked in combat with the final assassin. He couldn’t help but think how foolish they were, sending only four to dispatch one of the most powerful, skilled people he knew. 

Felix raised his hand, a bright blast of blue light issuing forth, skillfully directed into the chest of the last enemy, the force enough to make the man stumble backwards. Areadbhar sung as Dimitri slashed it through the air, burying the relic into the shoulder of the assassin, a strangled cry coming from the man as he fell to his knees. Dimitri’s foot pressed against the assailant’s chest, wrenching his lance from his flesh with a sickening noise, the assassin’s body crumpling to the ground in a heap. 

Felix rushed over to Dimitri, eyes scanning over his body for any wounds. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his heart still racing. 

“You are,” Dimitri replied, eye licked on the cut on Felix’s face. Felix raised a hand, absently wiping at his cheek, red smearing over his fingertips. 

“It’s nothing,” he replied softly, and Dimitri leaned in, very close, to inspect the wound. Felix saw Dimitri’s hand raise, about to touch him, when Ingrid’s voice called out to them. 

“Dimitri! Felix! What happened?” she asked, running over to them in her nightclothes, lance gripped tightly in her hand. 

“Just some foolish attackers, Empire spies, most likely,” Felix replied, using it as an excuse to move away from Dimitri. 

“I was lucky that Felix was here,” Dimitri began, “Else I may have taken a spear to the chest.” Only now did Felix realize that Dimitri wasn’t wearing his armor, and he made a mental note to chastise the man at a later time for being so foolish. 

“I’ll gather the others, make sure there aren’t any other enemies,” Ingrid said and Dimitri nodded, standing next to Felix. 

“Please do, I have to tend to Felix’s wound,” Dimitri replied, and Felix was about to retort, but Ingrid immediately turned and ran back to wake the others. 

“I told you, boar, it’s nothing,” Felix said, but Dimitri grabbed onto his arm with an iron grip, starting to lead him back to his tent. 

Felix plopped down in the single chair with an aggravated sigh once inside, Dimitri grabbing a clean cloth and water to flush the cut. Dimitri removed his gloves, tossing them haphazardly behind him before dipping the white cloth in the water. 

Felix was hoping he wouldn’t need the cut stitched when he felt the cool, damp cloth on his skin, first wiping away the already drying drips of blood tracking down his cheek. Dimitri’s brow was furrowed, looking away for only a microsecond to rinse the coppery blood off into the bowl, finding a clean spot of cloth to continue with his work. 

The touch was too soft, too tender and caring as he cleaned the wound, Felix not even registering the burn of the poultice Dimitri spread over the cut once it was clean. 

“It’s not very deep, so it shouldn’t scar,” Dimitri mused, seemingly more to himself than to Felix. Felix wondered what the scar beneath Dimitri’s eyepatch looked like. Had Dimitri taken care of his own wounds as well as he’d taken care of Felix’s? 

The blue of Dimitri’s eye was bright, even in the low candlelit interior of the tent, brilliant as a sapphire polished to a mirror shine. Felix felt inadequate, being able to look at such a color, while Dimitri only had chestnut staring back at him. 

Dimitri grabbed both of Felix’s hands in his, and Felix was surprised at how cool and smooth his skin was. He expected callouses, scars, anything that showed what he’d been through, but they were almost offensively supple. 

“Thank you, my friend, for protecting me,” Dimitri said softly, his thumbs tracing lines over the backs of Felix’s hands. “I was not wrong to trust you with my life.” Felix could feel a blush creeping over his cheeks, and he damned the traitorous, unwelcome flow of blood beneath his skin. 

It was nearly silent, just the crackling of the few candles in the tent keeping them company. They looked at each other for a long moment, Felix unable to come up with any sly remark to break the tension. He felt his hands dropped, and he opened his mouth to reply, but they were quickly placed on either side of his neck, Dimitri’s equally soft lips pressing against his forehead. 

Felix froze, his hands limp and useless in his lap. He felt Dimitri’s lips move to his uninjured cheek, another too-gentle kiss pressed there. He moved before Dimitri could kiss his mouth, palms pushing against his King’s chest. Time seemed to slow as Felix slid his hands to Dimitri’s shoulders, caressing up further still to his neck, feeling the rapid pulse beating there. Fingertips toying with blonde locks, Felix closed the scant distance between them, connecting their mouths in a honeyed kiss. Felix knew he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be distracting Dimitri with this, shouldn’t be kissing his friend, his leader, his King. 

Felix also couldn’t find it in himself to care when he felt Dimitri moan softly against his lips, the slightest noise of pleasure sending heat roiling through Felix’s veins. 

“You’re a fool,” Felix said between kisses, “Not wearing your armor, what were you thinking? Such an idiot, you’ll be the death of me, boar....” He was mumbling, high on the warmth of Dimitri’s lips, the pressure of the man’s arms sliding around him. Felix toyed with the clasp of Dimitri’s obnoxious cloak, pressing more insistently against him when the heavy cloth fell to the floor. Dimitri stood, pulling Felix with him as he shrugged out of his own coat. 

Felix let Dimitri do what he wanted, his eyes closing as hands roamed over his body, removing piece after piece of clothing, teeth nipping at the dip of his collarbone once his undershirt was pulled over his head. The lips moved downwards, matched by a pair of caressing hands, down his sides to remove his boots. Felix placed his hands on Dimitri’s shoulders to steady himself, already woozy with arousal.

Felix was in the air, in a pair of strong arms, then on his back on something soft; he couldn’t keep track, only chasing those pink lips that teased over his skin and smirked against it when he mewled at the contact. Felix’s hands finally found the other’s bare skin, soon slipped from his grasp as he was rid of the last of his clothing. Predatory, was how Dimitri looked. Ready to devour Felix and he welcomed it, wanted it.

Felix cried out when his painfully hard cock was enveloped in wet warmth, Dimitri’s hands gripping his hips. The King’s hair tickled Felix’s thighs as he as he slid down his length, obscene slurping noises reaching his ears. A pang of guilt again; Felix felt it in his chest, but a hard suck and a dig of nails into his flesh wiped it away, Felix’s head falling back onto a pillow that smelled like Dimitri, mossy and sharp, like the morning after rain. He was embarrassingly close already, balls clenching at the thought of spilling inside Dimitri’s mouth, but he pulled off just before the wave crested, a whine of discontent slipping past Felix’s lips. 

“D-Dima...” he stuttered, the childhood nickname slipping out before he could stop it, and Dimitri looked up at him, the view arousingly obscene as he hovered between Felix’s legs, fingers in his mouth as he coated them in saliva. Felix didn’t want to watch as Dimitri prepared him, but he also couldn’t look away, not even when the first finger penetrated his tight ring, muscle spasming around the intrusion. 

Dimitri’s other hand worked Felix’s dripping cock, thumb pressing over his slit, smearing precum and leftover spit down his length. Felix whined at the addition of a second finger, the stretch uncomfortable but so very wanted, Dimitri scissoring into him after a moment of adjustment. 

“Fuck... Dima, _please,_ ” Felix begged, tired of the pace, needing to feel him now. The boar didn’t keep him waiting, spit-slick cockhead pressing against Felix’s winking muscle. 

“Impatient,” Dimitri mumbled, slowly pressing inside. Felix tensed, but felt soft fingers caressing his hips, urging him to relax. The intrusion was painful despite being stretched, Felix’s eyes clamping shut as Dimitri slowly pushed in. Felix felt lips on his own, tender and soft, keeping him occupied as Dimitri seated himself fully inside. 

Felix’s cock was trapped between their bodies, every slight movement torturous in its pleasure. 

“Move, would you?” Felix breathed, venom entirely gone from his voice, replaced with pure need. Dimitri busied his mouth at Felix’s neck, nipping and licking and sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin. The first roll of his hips had stars behind Felix’s eyelids, his mouth falling open as Dimitri set a pace. Felix couldn’t speak, only moan and whimper as he was fucked, hair starting to stick to his forehead with sweat. 

Dimitri wasn’t gentle, but there was a tenderness underlying each positioned thrust, each caress of his sides, each little nibble at his ear or kiss on his neck that had Felix’s mind buzzing with emotions he wasn’t planning on feeling. His hands went to Dimitri’s cheeks, forcing him to look at Felix’s flushed face. Felix’s fingers slipped beneath the leather strap of Dimitri’s eyepatch, pushing it up gently. Dimitri didn’t stop him, just kept tearing gasping breaths from Felix’s chest, flush high on his own cheeks. 

The scar was not pretty; startlingly red even in the low light, a single downward slash marring the skin. Felix pressed his lips against it, the hard, healed tissue a stark contrast to Dimitri’s soft cheek, but it didn’t diminish him in the slightest. Something as trivial as a scar could never dull Faerghus’s King. 

Felix felt his hips shift, Dimitri’s cock driving right against his prostate and he choked on his breath, the closeness of his orgasm taking him by surprise. He stuttered out Dimitri’s name, feeling the other man nuzzle against his neck, pulse practically jumping as he neared his end. 

Feeling a strong grip on his cock, Felix didn’t resist, just a few pumps and he was spilling his release over his and Dimitri’s stomach, a thankful moan the only sound he could make. His nails dug into Dimitri’s shoulders, the man still pounding into him, sensitivity reaching a fever pitch. 

A few stutters of Dimitri’s hips and he groaned, a delicious noise that Felix wanted to bottle and save for later, buried deep inside Felix as he came. Felix clung to Dimitri without shame, bodies sweaty and smelling of sex and contentment. 

Felix’s eyes, having closed in bliss, opened slowly at the soft kiss pressed to his lips, deciding to run his hands through Dimitri’s hair, tugging on the strands to keep him in place. Dimitri pulled away to lay on Felix’s side, his entire body shivering as Dimitri withdrew. Dimitri draped a possessive arm over Felix’s chest, resting his chin on Felix’s shoulder. 

“Wear your armor when you go outside next time, boar,” Felix said, and was answered by a laugh from Dimitri. 

“Of course,” he finally replied, turning Felix’s head to make sure his handiwork was still in place on his cheek. “Though I don’t think I need to bother when I have you to protect me.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t hide his smirk, brushing Dimitri’s hair off his forehead before catching his lips for another soft kiss, no more words needed between them.


End file.
